


it’s the clichés that cause the trouble

by zennie



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Undercover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-02 19:36:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10225559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zennie/pseuds/zennie
Summary: Maggie is a waitress in an old broken-down diner in National City when she meets Alex for the first time.But things are not always what they seem.





	1. Diner

**Author's Note:**

> Title from a line in Jeanette Winterson’s novel _Written on the Body_.
> 
> As always, thanks, Inspector Boxer, for the beta.

“Here she comes.” Darla knocked Maggie’s shoulder with her own and indicated the door with her chin just as the bell rang, and a slender woman with chin-length dark hair and a black leather jacket came in and headed for a booth. A strand of blonde hair escaped Darla’s messy bun as she leaned over the counter to blatantly eye the customer’s ass, not that Maggie blamed her. Megan smacked her arm and nodded her head at Maggie’s discomfort.  
  
“Knock it off, Darla. This is a place of business.” Pursing her lips, Megan slid a pencil behind her ear, her own dark hair up in a much neater arrangement. As the manager, she made it her job to make sure Darla, who didn’t seem to have much of a filter, didn’t go too far.    
  
The morning crowd was slowly dissipating, but there was only one bussed table, right in the middle of Maggie’s section, much to the delight of Darla. She and Megan had been teasing Maggie mercilessly for the last week about her new favorite regular. “You need to get her number this time,” Darla whispered as Maggie grabbed paper placemats and utensils, and Maggie rolled her eyes at the prodding. Darla had suggested the same thing yesterday, and the day before, and the repetition was not endearing.  
  
“You want to date her so bad, you get it,” Maggie muttered under her breath, hating the fact that she had been obvious enough for her co-workers to have picked up on her interest. She ignored the thumbs up Megan gave her from behind the register, glad the customer in question was sitting with her back to their antics.  
  
Bright light streamed in through the windows, casting every bit of grime and grunge in the old, beaten-down diner in sharp relief. The place desperately needed to be hosed down, if not cleansed by hellfire, Maggie thought idly as she stepped up beside the table. Her new favorite regular was seated in a booth by the windows, and Maggie’s smile widened as the same sunlight that showed every scratch and scar in the linoleum brought out sparks of red in the woman’s hair as she raised her head to greet Maggie.  
  
“I don’t know why you study the menu. You’ve gotten the same thing every time you’ve come in,” Maggie teased as she set the table and fished in her apron for her notepad and pen.  
  
“Maybe I’ll surprise you.” Her voice was rough, deeper than usual. “Maggie… right?”  
  
Maggie bit back the teasing rejoinder about liking surprises and tried to ignore how the whiskey-rough timbre of the brunette’s voice saying her name hit her squarely in the gut. “Yup,” Maggie replied, tapping the plastic name tag pinned to her t-shirt, smirking a little at the adorable blush that spread across her cheeks. “Alice, no… Alex?” She only pretended not to know the other woman’s name.  
  
“Yeah.” The word rumbled out of Alex’s throat and a bashful smile graced her lips as she lifted her head to meet Maggie’s eyes. “I guess I’m becoming a regular, huh?”  
  
Maggie tilted her head with a smirk. “The last couple of weeks, at least. You look like you had a rough night.”  
  
“It was a little crazy,” Alex agreed, and she started to say something more when another of Maggie’s customers called to her. With an apologetic shrug, Maggie went to take care of him before returning to Alex’s booth.  
  
“Your usual?”  
  
“Just coffee to start. I’m going to see if I can surprise you,” Alex replied, bending her head back over the menu to study it more closely.  
  
The coffee was running low, and Maggie busied herself with starting a fresh pot, so when the bell rang, signalling another customer, Maggie simply gestured to toward the booths. “Seat yourself.”  
  
“Thanks!” The voice was sunny and entirely too chipper, and Maggie glanced in annoyance as the fresh-faced blonde embodiment of wholesome living breezed by her, her irritation increasing tenfold when she stopped in Maggie’s section… at Alex’s booth. Maggie watched in horror as Alex slid out of her seat and hugged the blonde before they both sat down.  
  
“Damn, your cutie has a cutie,” Darla muttered near Maggie’s ear while the blonde chattered animatedly about her morning. “Kinda looks like a Disney Princess.”  
  
“Like the kind that gets dressed by woodland creatures while she dances around the room and sings happy songs?” Maggie grumped as Alex laughed at something the blonde was saying.  
  
“Some girls like the preppy argyle look. Maybe your crush is one of them.”  
  
“I do not have a crush,” Maggie growled as she rolled her eyes and picked up two glasses of water, making her way down to Alex’s table. “This is a surprise,” she said as she set the glasses down and flipped Alex’s coffee cup over and filled it. “You don’t usually have company.” Her eyes settled on Alex for a moment before shifting to the blonde with a raised eyebrow. “What can I get you to drink?”  
  
“Coffee would be great, thanks!”  
  
Up close, the blonde was even more perky and cute than she appeared, if that were even possible, and Maggie hated her on the spot, especially when she saw the warm, indulgent smile on Alex’s face as she gazed at the blonde.  
  
“Kara, are you ready to order?” Alex asked, and Maggie stifled the sigh that welled up in her chest. Kara. Of course the cute blonde girl would have a cute blonde girl name.  
  
“Oh, hold on, you go ahead.” Kara scrambled for the menu, studying it quickly.  
  
“I’ll have my usual.” Maggie was sure it was just wishful thinking that Alex’s smile widened when she glanced up at Maggie to order, but it was enough to alleviate a little bit of the annoyance she was feeling for the blonde.  
  
“Not going to try anything new?” Maggie teased gently.  
  
“Nah. I’ll just have some of whatever she’s having. She’ll probably order enough for three people.”  
  
Kara cocked an eyebrow, looking vaguely insulted by the presumption. “Who says you are getting some of my food? I’m starved after last night.”  
  
“Worked up an appetite, did you?” Maggie looked between the two women, seeing a flash of unspoken communication from Alex the blonde missed.  
  
“Totally! It was…. Hey!” Maggie would have pretended she didn’t see Alex kick the blonde’s shin under the table, but Kara’s reaction called attention to it. Whatever had gone on last night, Alex definitely did not want the other woman to talk about it.  
  
“Why don’t you just order, Kara?”  
  
“Okay, okay. I’ll have the big plate special with eggs over easy, and can I get biscuits and gravy instead of just biscuits and stuffed french toast instead of pancakes?” She flipped the menu over and gave a small squeal. “Sticky buns!” Maggie pursed her lips, tapping her pen as she waited, and Alex rubbed her forehead, a pained expression on her face. “I’ll have one, no, wait, two sticky buns.”  
  
“Anything else?” Maggie asked drily, surprised to see Kara take the question seriously and go back to scouring the menu.  
  
Alex reached over and took the menu out of her hands and handed it to Maggie, grinning despite the glare from the blonde. “That’s it, thanks, Maggie.”  
  
As she placed the order, Darla craned her neck to get a better look at the booth where Alex and Kara were laughing. “They seem cozy. Did I hear something about a crazy night as I passed by? Do you think they had a crazy night together?”  
  
Leave it to Darla to find the absolute worst conclusion and voice it. “It’s none of my business if they did,” she replied curtly, knowing she wasn’t fooling her co-worker in the least. Her mind had already leaped there, but she didn’t need Darla to reinforce it.  
  
Maggie’s section cleared out except for Alex and her friend, who had already devoured her sticky buns and seemed to be looking around anxiously for more food. Finally, their order was up, and Maggie grabbed a plate in each hand and delivered them to the booth. “Steak and eggs,” she said as she set the plate down in front of Alex, “and a big plate special.” The blonde actually hopped a little and clapped her hands when she saw the stuffed french toast. “I’ll bring your biscuits and gravy right out. You need anything else?”  
  
Kara was already scooping eggs onto her toast and shoving it into her mouth, and she shook her head at Maggie’s question. Alex gave an exasperated sigh and looked up at Maggie with a smile. “I think we’re good. I’ll try to keep her from licking the plate, but no promises.”  
  
Maggie soaked in that smile for just a moment too long, until Kara interrupted to say, “This is really good.” She stabbed her fork into the french toast for another bite. “Alex, you should try this next time you are here.”  
  
“How about I try it now?” Alex reached across and snagged a corner, earning her a yelp from her dining companion.  
  
“Order your own french toast,” Kara said as she tried to shift her plate away from Alex and nearly upended it into her lap. Their shenanigans would have been cute except that there was a clear fondness between them despite their bickering, like they had been together for years, and Maggie grimaced as she stepped away to get the rest of Kara’s order.  
  
The bell dinged once again, and a delivery guy stepped through the door with a cart stacked with boxes. “Thursday delivery, like clockwork.” Megan raised her voice. “Frank, for you.”  
  
The doors to the kitchen swung open, revealing Frank, the owner of the diner. He rarely left his dingy office off to the side of the kitchen, but he always signed for the Thursday 10 AM delivery, three boxes, bearing the name of a pastry shop and a postmark from Star City.  
  
“He loves those cannolis,” Darla laughed as Frank disappeared back into his office, three boxes perched precariously on top of one another.  
  
“He does know there are bakeries that make cannolis in National City, right?” Maggie asked.  
  
“He says nobody makes cannolis like Mario’s. Something about a secret recipe for the dough that came over from the old country.” Megan threw up her hands and rolled her eyes. For a boss, Frank was better than most, so they put up with a few quirks. “He let me have one once, but I didn’t taste anything different, and he called me a troglodyte.”  
  
Maggie cocked an eyebrow and made a funny face. “Impressive vocabulary. You think he’s reading a dictionary back there?”  
  
“I have no idea.” Megan laughed. She looked like she was about to add something when a construction crew came in, taking up two tables in Maggie’s section. Maggie got buried, taking orders, filling drinks, and she only had half a second to drop a to-go cup of coffee and the check at Alex’s table.  
  
“My hero,” Alex told her with a grin as she wrapped her hands around the cup, and Maggie winked at her. Alex’s cheeks flushed and she dropped her eyes, earning them both a speculative look from the blonde. But then one of her tables called, and Maggie was off again with one last glance at Alex.  
  
When she finally got a moment to breathe, Alex and her friend were already heading toward the cash register. “Maggie, pack up a sticky bun to go,” Megan called as Alex fished out her credit card.  
  
Maggie did as she was told, hustling it up to the register and into the waiting hands of Kara, who was making little grabby motions with her fingers.  
  
“You,” Megan said, pointing at Alex affectionately, “bring this one back with you again. I like the way she eats.”  
  
“My wallet doesn’t,” Alex grumped as she signed the receipt. She handed the slip of paper and the pen back to Megan, but her eyes and shy smile were directed at Maggie. “See you around, Maggie,” Alex said, before hastily adding, “and Megan.”  
  
“See you around, Alex,” Maggie called back.  
  
The two women were barely out the door before Darla said, “Are you done swooning, Sawyer? Cuz table 8 needs coffee refills.”  
  
Maggie swatted at the other woman as she grabbed the coffee pot. “I don’t swoon.”  
  
“Too bad she has a girlfriend,” Darla taunted, but Maggie ignored her as she headed toward her section.  
  
A cash tip was on Alex’s table, and Maggie paused long enough to swipe the bills. As she did so, a small piece of paper slipped out and fluttered to the floor. When Maggie picked it up, she found a phone number written in a small, neat numbers. Hope blossomed in her chest, and she smiled at the slip of paper before schooling her face into her usual friendly-but-not-too-friendly expression before Darla walked by. Maybe Alex wasn’t dating the blonde after all. Stashing the number in the front pocket of her jeans, Maggie went on with her work with a new spring to her step.


	2. Enemies...

The construction crew finally left, and Maggie took a second to catch her breath, untying the apron from around her waist and hanging it over a hook just inside the swinging doors. She grabbed her jacket and pulled it on. “I’m taking a break, Megan,” she called, and Megan made a run-along motion with her hand as she bent over the crossword.  
  
Weaving her way through the kitchen toward the alley, Maggie glanced into Frank’s office and noticed he was gone, an unusual occurrence especially after the Thursday delivery. She paused, studying the room, before noticing a sliver of light cutting across the floor. A hidden door in the wall showed where it hadn’t been closed properly, and Maggie took a quick look around the kitchen to make sure nobody saw her before she pried it open and slipped through. It closed behind her with a small snick, and she frowned.  
  
It was dark in the warehouse that jutted up against the diner, and Maggie felt her way along a wide metal shelving unit while her eyes adjusted. Her toe hit something soft, and she knelt, finding something warm and sticky under her fingers as a weird musk smell filled her nose. “Damn it,” Maggie muttered under her breath as her sense of unease grew. A few inches over, and her hand brushed against rapidly-cooling skin. She didn’t need to see to know she had found Frank.  
  
The slight shuffle of a shoe on concrete was the only thing that saved her from meeting the same fate. She stepped backward and tripped over a low, flat box, falling hard to the floor as something zipped through the air where she had just been standing. Scrambling backward on her hands and feet, she caught a glimpse of a weird, misshapen head and a body contorted into a position no human could make before an unholy screech sounded and the thing leaped away, crashing through a painted-over window set high on the wall.  
  
Breathing out in a loud huff, Maggie pulled herself upright. The busted window gave her better light, enough to see Frank’s body clearly, laying in a pool of green slime. She had tripped over one of Frank’s boxes, and pastries were spilled over the dusty floor. Kneeling by the box, she used a pen to nudge the cardboard aside to peer further into the box, finding nothing of interest. Fucking cannolis.  
  
The door to the warehouse swung open and slammed into the wall with a bang, and Maggie lost her hold on her pen as she jumped. A voice yelled from behind her. “Freeze! Hands where I can see them.”  
  
It took a moment for the chaos to sort itself out, and when Maggie lifted her head, soldiers in black tactical gear surrounded her, their assault rifles fixed on her as she carefully raised her hands. “Easy, boys.”  
  
“Stand up. Slowly,” the voice ordered.    
  
Maggie straightened, a little trickle of sweat dripping down her back despite the cool air as she splayed her fingers to show she wasn’t holding anything. “This is a big misunderstanding,” she said calmly, trying to defuse the tension. “I’m a cop. NCPD. I’m reaching into the inside pocket of my jacket for my shield,” she announced, loudly, and hoped everyone heard her. Slowly, deliberately, Maggie moved her hand down, sliding two fingers into the pocket to retrieve the black folio that held her badge. Getting it out without being shot was a win in her book, and she let the breath she was holding out as she raised it up and showed her badge.  
  
“See? Cop. Now if you all will…”  
  
A hand grabbed the shield, and Maggie swung around on instinct, freezing in shock at the person standing behind her. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Maggie muttered. Alex, her new favorite regular from the diner, stood there in a top-to-bottom black uniform, her tactical vest sporting an assortment of pouches and gear, including a wicked-looking combat knife sheathed across her chest. An assault rifle slung around her neck completed the absolutely badass look, and Maggie felt a little jolt to her guts.  
  
“Detective Sawyer,” Alex drawled before offering the folio to Maggie. She slapped it into Maggie’s outstretched hand with a smirk. “Undercover, were we?”  
  
“You know who I am,” Maggie challenged as she slid her shield back into her jacket and folded her arms across her chest. “Wanna tell me who you are?”  
  
“Alex Danvers, FBI.”  
  
“FBI, huh? So what’s a nice agent like you slumming in my neck of the woods?” The other woman huffed out a breath and stepped around Maggie to stare at the box of pastries at her feet. “They weren’t after the delivery,” Maggie told her pointedly. “They were after him. And if you hadn’t just exposed my undercover op, we would still be in position to know why.”  
  
“We knew there was nothing in the box.” Alex nudged a cannoli with the toe of her boot before turning back to Maggie. “Of interest to us, at least.”  
  
“Yeah? How did you know that?”  
  
“That’s classified.” An agent yelled an all clear, and Alex frowned. She reached up with a gloved hand and hit a comm under her hair. “Status on the pursuit?” A second later, she muttered, “Damn. Get a clean up team in here ASAP.”  
  
“This is my crime scene,” Maggie told her, “so why don’t you all run along with all your toys and let the NCPD take over. You’ve already messed the scene up enough as it is.”  
  
“Look, Detective,” Alex sneered, “I’m sure you mean well, but we don’t answer to you.” She drew herself up to her full height and took a step forward, her glare cold. “We’ll handle it from here.”  
  
Refusing to be intimidated, Maggie sidled up another step, a tight smile on her lips as Alex’s eyes narrowed and her jaw tightened. “You don’t even want to know what I saw of the assailant?” Maggie asked. She would almost be enjoying herself except for the fact that her case had just been blown to smithereens. “Or what intel I’ve gathered during my month-long operation?”  
  
The agent tilted her head to the side as condescension dripped from her voice. “I don’t think we really need any pointers on how to brew bad coffee.” Maggie really wanted to wipe that smug look off of the agent’s face, but she could tell she was irritating the other woman by keeping cool, so she just let her smile widen at the barb.  
  
“You sure drank enough of it to know.”  
  
“One of the pitfalls of surveillance.” Alex glanced over her shoulder, making eye contact with another agent, before looking back at Maggie. “Now, Detective, I have work to do. We can find you if we need your ‘intel.’ I’m sure you can see your way out.”  
  
Maggie matched her smug smile with one of her own and stepped just a little further into the other woman’s space to make her parting shot. “See you around, Danvers.”  
  
***  
  
The line clicked after a single ring. “Danvers.”  
  
“And here I thought you might have given me a fake number. Tell me, Agent Danvers, do you make a habit of slipping your phone number to all the pretty waitresses you meet?” Maggie could almost see the anger boiling in Alex’s eyes, and the image made her smile into her phone.  
  
A loud exasperated sigh sounded through the line. “You’re assuming I wasn’t just trying to get close to you for the case.”  
  
Alex’s retort lacked a little bit of the punch Maggie expected, and she knew she had the agent off-balance. Pressing her advantage, she chuckled lightly. “The case made you check out my ass everytime I walked by? I guess I should be impressed by your dedication to the job.”  
  
“What do you want, Sawyer?” Alex snapped.  
  
“I want you to meet me. I’ll text you the address.” She heard Alex huff into the phone, and she knew she had her. “And leave the strike team at home, unless you are scared to be alone with me.”  
  
“Trust me, I’m not scare–”  
  
Maggie hung up on Alex mid-sentence, giving her a minute to stew before texting an address.  
  
***  
  
“Nice place,” Alex said, sarcasm evident in her voice as she slid into the booth across from Maggie. Music poured from the speaker above their head, muting her voice. “Come here often?” Alex was back in the well-worn leather motorcycle jacket from the diner earlier in the day, and Maggie wondered idly if she rode. As much as she enjoyed the tight jeans, Maggie wasn’t sure if she preferred the other woman in her combat gear.  
  
“Yeah, I do,” Maggie replied with a fond smile. She raised a finger to catch the bartender’s attention, pointing to her beer and then to Alex. “You look like you could use a drink. Or are you always this uptight?”  
  
Alex’s eyes narrowed. “What are we doing here?”  
  
“I thought we might have a drink. Maybe play a game of pool.”  
  
“I don’t have time for social hour.” Alex didn’t even attempt to hide her irritation as she started to stand.  
  
“You’re not FBI.” Maggie’s tone was conversational, but her words stopped Alex in her tracks. The agent dropped back into her seat with a sour expression and glanced around the room as if to assess the threat level, her eyes zeroing in on the waitress as she set two beers and two tumblers down on the table. “I hope you like Scotch,” Maggie said as she slid a glass over in front of Alex.  
  
Alex picked up the glass and swirled the amber liquid before taking a small sip. “So what makes you think I’m not FBI?” Her tone matched Maggie’s, like they were just making small talk, but her shoulders were tense under the leather and she avoided Maggie’s eyes.  
  
Smirking at the other woman, Maggie raised her own glass and breathed in the scent. “Our official liaison has never heard of an Agent Danvers, and they knew nothing about a raid or a dead alien.” She took a sip of her own, savoring the taste. They kept a 12-year old bottle of Scotch behind the bar just for her, and while it wasn’t the best she had ever tasted, it was better than their usual top shelf. “It was almost too easy to find out you weren’t who you said you were.”  
  
“You’d be surprised at how few check,” Alex said with a shrug.  
  
“The real question is, what kind of black-ops organization needs to pretend to be a legit agency? CIA? NSA?” Alex’s eyebrow quirked. “But then I figured it out. Only one rumored division that deals with aliens that I know of. You’re DEO, aren’t you?”  
  
Alex didn’t answer, just rubbed the glass between her hands before raising it again. “What’s your play here, Sawyer? What do you want?”  
  
“I want in.”  
  
“In?”  
  
“On the case. On my case,” Maggie corrected, with a bit of heat. She had been off regular rotation for a month, missing out on good cases to refill coffee and sling hash. Taking a deep breath, she leaned back in the booth, resting her arm on the back of the bench in an effort to act casual. “Or else a little birdie leaks a story to Cat Grant about the ‘Men in Black’ operating right here in National City.”  
  
“You wouldn’t.”  
  
“You really gonna take that chance?”  
  
Alex finished her drink in one long swallow and slammed the glass down on the table. Standing, she straightened her jacket before leaning down, her mouth mere inches from Maggie’s ear, close enough Maggie could smell the alcohol on Alex’s breath. “I’ll be in touch. Make sure your little birdie stays in its cage until you hear from me.”  
  
Turning her head, Maggie let her gaze linger on Alex’s lips before meeting those dark, inscrutable eyes, boring into hers. “Looking forward to it, Danvers,” she said with one of her wide, dimpled smiles.    
  
Alex hesitated for the briefest of seconds, and Maggie licked her lips in anticipation, but a moment later, the agent was taking long strides across the bar toward the door. Maggie saluted her departing figure with her glass before finishing it. This was going to be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Curious to hear people's thoughts on this chapter since I'm not sure this is the direction people expected me to go.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @ zennie-fic.tumblr.com


	3. Fake Date

The air was cold when Maggie stepped out of the precinct to get lunch, and the clouds threatened rain. She pulled her jacket tighter around her as she headed down the street, hoping it didn’t pour before she got back.

“Detective.”

Maggie was glad she didn’t jump when Alex stepped out from the alleyway and matched her stride, although the sudden appearance of the other woman had surprised her. She stifled her grin as the agent glanced to her left appraisingly. This game of constant one-upmanship was going to be fun if Alex kept playing. “Agent Danvers,” Maggie greeted in her best so-nice-to-see-you voice. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Your presence is requested.” Alex stuffed her hands into the pockets of her near-identical leather jacket and hunched her shoulders as the wind picked up.

“Now? Oh, gosh, sorry, I’ve gotta grab lunch and file witness statements this afternoon. Maybe if you schedule an appointment?”

Alex’s sideways glance told her that Alex knew what game Maggie was playing. “Did I say request? Sorry, I meant to say you are coming with me. Now.” Maggie wondered if Alex knew just exactly how hot her voice sounded with that authoritative growl and if she were doing it on purpose.

“What about lunch?”

“You want in? This is your way in,” Alex replied, her tone blasé. Her stride lengthened, and Alex’s longer legs made it harder for Maggie to keep up, and this time Maggie didn’t hide her grin.

They passed half a block in silence, heading closer to downtown, which seemed like an unusual location for an off-the-books agency. Maggie had spent the morning researching the conspiracy theories and rumors about the DEO, including maps of possible base locations. None of those had pegged downtown National City, although the consensus had their largest base located in an elaborate underground bunker at Area 51.

“So how long were you standing there waiting for me to walk by so you could surprise me?” Alex ignored her, but a small smirk pulled at the corners of her lips. “Seems like a lot of work just to be a dramatic asshole.” Alex’s smirk widened at the characterization, but she didn’t object.

“This way.” Alex caught Maggie’s elbow and directed her into the foyer of a tall, nondescript skyscraper that looked like the regional offices of a bank. Nothing stood out that would mark the building as the location of a secret extra-governmental agency, not even a couple of beefy guys at the security desk. Instead, a portly senior citizen greeted Alex with a smile and wave.

The muzak version of the “The Girl from Ipanema” played as they entered the elevator, and Alex punched the button for the 47th floor. They both stood quietly, facing the doors, as the elevator shot up, not stopping at any other floors. Maggie resisted the urge to fidget and opted instead to glare at the speaker as the tinny synthesizer picked up the tempo. The elevator slowed, and Maggie braced herself, envisioning black uniformed agents moving through a pseudo-industrial space with dark granite, grey walls, and gleaming insignia.

Instead, the doors opened to a receptionist desk staffed by a college-age girl in a pink twin set. Maggie could feel Alex watching her as she gestured for the detective to exit the elevator, and Maggie wondered if this was some kind of psychological test. The safely beige corporate decor boasted shabby, well-worn carpet and pleasant, inoffensive pastel landscape paintings as Alex ushered her through a short hallway toward a conference room. Wide, upholstered chairs, also beige, surrounded a huge table, and Maggie seated herself in one as Alex leaned her hip against the edge of the table and folded her arms across her chest.

“So…” Maggie said, using her toe to swing her chair slightly side-to-side and looking up at the agent with a shit-eating grin. “Am I here to learn about the difference between term-life and whole-life insurance policies or what?”

“Nope,” Alex replied in a dismissive tone but Maggie caught her stifling a grin. “Just a basic security briefing and some paperwork.” Alex hit a button on the remote, and the TV at the end of the room flickered to life as a the lights dimmed. A monotone voice began to give the history of the establishment of the DEO.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Maggie muttered under her breath as the voice droned on over archival footage of Superman’s first appearance in Metropolis. She didn’t need to turn around to sense Alex’s amusement, especially when Maggie’s stomach growled loud enough to be heard.

Finally, the video ended, and Maggie blinked as the lights came back up. A stack of paperwork had materialized on the table, and she glared at it. “If you are trying to get me to quit before I even start…” she said as Alex set a pen down beside her.

‘We’re a government agency, Detective Sawyer. Bureaucracies run on forms.”

Frowning, Maggie picked up the first set of papers and started reading, signing at the appropriate places. At least the gun safety form mentioned ray guns and sonic cannons. She raised her head to ask Alex when she could get her hands on a Series 4 De-Atomizer, or at least a Noisy Cricket, but the agent had disappeared.

Maggie finished with the paperwork with a sigh and massaged her cramping hand, glancing around the room, more convinced than ever this was some kind of an elaborate hazing ritual. A second later, a wall slid back, revealing Alex in her all-black uniform and a thigh holster stretching down her leg. She was, sadly, lacking her tactical vest, but Maggie was still appreciative of the look.

“All done?” Alex asked. The smirk was back as Alex gathered up the paperwork and gestured toward the doorway. “Detective, if you’ll come with me?”

Now this was more like it as Alex lead her across a suspended walkway, past other agents dressed in the same uniform. The high ceiling and large windows kept the space from looking like a cave with all the grey walls and brown concrete floor. Maggie hunted for but did not see any mounted ray guns ala Buck Rogers, which she considered a serious miss.

They stopped at a conference room, the reinforced walls curving over a TV with the DEO logo rotating like an old-school screensaver. “This place is sick. Like James-Bond, bad-guy-hideout, sick,” Maggie said appreciatively as she craned her neck to see the tricked-out command center.

“We have our moments,” Alex said, with a hint of false modesty in her voice. “Help yourself, Detective,” Alex invited as she settled into a chair and indicated the pizza boxes were stacked on the table alongside paper plates, napkins, and bottles of water. “I seem to recall you saying something about lunch.”

Maggie was more than happy to oblige, seeing that one of the pizzas was Hawaiian, her favorite. She snagged a couple of slices and sat back in the sleek leather chair, staring at Alex thoughtfully as the agent grabbed a paper plate and looked over her options. “I must have passed muster, huh?”

Alex paused from where she was reaching for a slice and glanced at Maggie, her eyebrows knitting in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You must have run a pretty thorough background check to find out I like Hawaiian pizza.” Maggie wasn’t particularly angry; she had expected something like that, after all. She just hoped they hadn’t pried too far into her dating history and shared that around, especially with Alex.

Alex shook her head a little and took a couple of slices of Hawaiian and a slice of pepperoni. “First of all, one of the papers you signed was authorization for us to run a security check to give you clearance, so we haven’t done anything but the most basic Google search on publicly-available information, and second, Hawaiian is my favorite. I just don’t get it very often because my sister thinks pineapple on pizza is gross.” Alex picked a piece of pineapple off of her pizza and popped it her mouth, giving Maggie a challenging stare.

She wasn’t sure she believed Alex, but it didn’t really matter. Maggie wanted in, and, as Agent Danvers had pointed out, this was the way. “So what’s next?”

“First?” Alex asked around a mouthful of pizza. “Finish lunch and then figure out where we are on the case.”

***

Alex ate her pizza and reviewed the crime scene analysis she had been handed minutes before going to fetch Maggie, casting surreptitious glances at Maggie while she did so. The detective was devouring half a pizza and watching the comings-and-goings of the DEO through the glass walls like a kid at Christmas.

Maggie had blackmailed her way into the DEO, Alex reminded herself as she forced her eyes back to the paperwork for the fifth time in as many minutes. She wasn’t sure why her attention was drawn to the detective, other than the fact she made Alex profoundly uncomfortable. Even nervous. She was an unknown asset, and Alex needed to get a handle on her since they might have to work together for the duration of this case. Hopefully, the case would be over soon, although the forensics in the report were not giving them any help in that department. Alex shut the folder and sighed.

“You okay there, Danvers?”

“Yeah.” Sliding the folder over, Alex outlined what little they had. “That’s everything we have on the diner. The owner, who was an alien of unknown origin but could pass as human, was mostly off our radar since he wasn’t a Fort Rozz escapee. We suspected smuggling until we realized those boxes of pastries were just pastries and he turned up dead.”

“We were thinking smuggling too,” Maggie said as she flipped through the report idly.

“There’s not much there,” Alex admitted. “We have no idea why a long-time resident with a squeaky clean record would be killed, especially by another alien.”

“Yeah, we got a tip from a reliable CI something was going to happen, but they didn’t know what.” Alex glanced at Maggie skeptically, and the detective shrugged. “I work the Science Division, Danvers. We deal with all cases involving aliens and things that go bump in the night. This particular CI is some kind of alien empath; they can sense locations and, ah, currents, as they call them, but they don’t get a lot of specifics.”

“Hence you moonlighting as a waitress?”

“I’ve had worse,” Maggie replied with a grin. “We didn’t know Frank was an alien, we just knew that our CI had sensed something bad was going to happen.”

“We’re trying to identify the species, to see if that helps us narrow down suspects.” Alex shrugged her shoulder, knowing it was a long shot. Off-world rivalries rarely played out like that.

“New theory?” Maggie suggested, and Alex nodded as she reached for another slice of pizza. ”We’ve seen a rise in anti-alien sentiment with all the talk about the alien amnesty act.” Maggie grabbed a bottle of water from the table and took a drink, frowning thoughtfully. “A lot of big names associated with some of it, too. The Luthor family. Lord Tech. The Sinclairs. Even an obscure branch of the Wayne family.”

“I thought Bruce was the last one.”

Maggie shrugged. “Some weird cousin-by-marriage thing, I think. Like I said, obscure. The point is, there seems to be a lot of what looks like random chatter and citizen reports that could be the result of a well-financed astroturf operation, given how quickly it sprang up and the consistency of the message.”

Gorgeous and smart came, unbidden, into Alex’s head, and she tamped down on the thoughts immediately. Not that it helped, as Maggie steepled her fingers in front of her face and leaned into her hands, the dark intensity in her eyes drawing Alex in.

“Last night, after we met, I went back to the station and ran through the crime database on a hunch,” Maggie continued, and if she had noticed Alex staring at her, she didn’t show it. “In the last three weeks, there’s been a sudden spike in alien deaths and murders, all over the city, lots of different MOs, but at least three slashing deaths like Frank.”

Alex narrowed her eyes in concern when she saw a shiver run through Maggie’s body. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just got a little… close… in the warehouse.”

Images of the crime scene flashed through Alex’s head, and a few incongruous elements fell into place, the smashed pastry box, wayward claw marks on a palette several feet away from the body. “The alien, he attacked…?” She swallowed hard as an image of Maggie lying on the dusty floor, slashed open like the dead alien, flooded her mind.

“My own fault for blundering around in the dark.” Maggie blew off Alex’s concern with a shrug. “Good thing I tripped over that box… better to be lucky than good, sometimes.” Her eyes focused on the table in front of her, and she tapped her fingers together nervously.

It was as if Maggie didn’t know what to do with the attention from Alex, and Alex sensed now was not the time to pry, so she tried to lighten the mood. “Except you messed up my crime scene.”

Maggie tilted her head to the side, her eyes narrowed in a mock-glare. “Don’t you mean my crime scene, Danvers?”

“Let’s just call it our crime scene. You have everything there, all the forensics and analysis,” Alex said, indicating the folder. “And we have technology that makes your city PD lab look like an Easy-Bake Oven.”

Maggie looked like she was about to reply with another smart-ass comment when Agent Smyth paused by the door, motioning to Alex. “Excuse me.”

She had barely cleared the door when Smyth blurted out, “We can’t get you in. The organizer sounded suspicious at the last-minute request, and said they had already invited key members of law enforcement, including local FBI agents.”

“Damn,” Alex muttered. “We need to get someone inside. The Marcus estate will have all kinds of security, and we don’t have the time to get around it before tonight. Keep trying.” He nodded and hurried off.

Alex turned to see Maggie had stood up, leaning against the conference table with her arms crossed over her chest and a smug smile on her face. Her head tilted to the side. “Guess you’ll have to go as my date then.”

“Were you eavesdropping, Sawyer?”

“If you are going to have super-secret conversations about your black ops, you probably shouldn’t have them right outside an open conference room door,” Maggie retorted.

“ _You_ have an invite to the National City Help for Heroes Benefit Masquerade tonight?”

Maggie’s smile widened, her eyes sparkling and her dimples out in full force for the first time since the diner. A nervous flutter started in Alex’s stomach and her heart rate kicked up a notch. Alex reminded herself sternly that Maggie was no longer a flirty waitress and straightened to her full height, resting her hands on her hips and tightening her jaw, but her usual intimidating pose only seemed to amuse the detective.

“Yeah, Danvers, I do. And if you want, you can be my plus one.”

Alex sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. The idea was tempting, and therefore dangerous. She wasn’t sure what was drawing her to the detective, but Alex was starting to question her own judgement. “I’m sure we can get an agent to…”

Maggie cut her off with a firm shake of her head. “Nope. Either you accompany me, Agent Danvers, or I go in alone. It’s not negotiable.”

“Why me?”

“For one thing, you’ll have to pass as my date. You have to at least pretend to, ah...” Maggie hesitated as Alex’s eyes narrowed in warning, “...you know, like me.” Maggie’s words may have stumbled but her eyes still sparkled with repressed amusement. “I’ve met you and I think we could pull it off. Going in cold…” She shook her head again. “I’m not willing to chance it. Half my department will be there.”

“Second thing?”

“Well, let’s just say I have a reputation to uphold.”

“A reputation?”

“I can’t have just any girl on my arm.” Maggie’s eyebrow rose suggestively. “I have certain… standards.”

Alex fought to keep from blushing as the look Maggie was giving her accelerated the pounding of her heart. “And are you saying I would meet these exacting standards?”

“You’ll do. I’m sure you have a nice dress, something black, something that accentuates your curves…” Maggie’s voice trailed off as she gave Alex a blatant head-to-toe assessment, and Alex lost the battle as a blush heated her cheeks.

“Do you ever stop?” Alex huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at Maggie as anger rose in her chest, competing with the weird fascination. Anger was good; anger was appropriate, not… whatever else she was feeling.

Maggie laughed and pushed herself off of the table, tucking the folder under her arm. “Relax, Danvers, I’m just teasing.” She headed toward the door and Alex shifted to let her pass, tensing as Maggie leaned in close so she wouldn’t be overheard by the agent standing outside the door to escort her out. “Just tell me when I hit a red light. I don’t want to get in trouble with your human resources department for sexual harassment.”

Alex snorted. “Yeah, Pam would love that.”

“You’re on a first-name basis with HR? I bet there’s a story there.” Alex’s glare sharpened as she caught the mirth in Maggie’s eyes. Maggie stepped back to give her space with a knowing smirk at just how much she got under Alex’s skin. “I can’t wait to hear it.”

“I’ll see you tonight, Detective.” Alex said coldly as she nodded to the agent behind them. “You can pick me up downstairs.”

“Six o’clock.”

“Please escort Detective Sawyer to the door,” Alex instructed the agent, walking away from the detective without a backward glance and very nearly running over Kara when she rounded a corner.

“That was... interesting,” Kara commented blandly, and Alex realized her sister had a clear view of the conference room from where she was standing.

“She’s infuriating.”

“Yeah, I can see you are... flushed… with anger.” A slight intonation made the statement sound like a question, and Alex clenched her jaw.

“What are you trying to say, Kara?”

Kara shrugged, her expression contemplative. “I dunno. It’s just, at the diner, it seemed like you were kinda flirting with her. When she was a waitress.”

“That was for work. I was cultivating a source.”

“Oh,” Kara replied, and Alex thought she was going to let it go, but of course her sister had a parting shot. “‘Cultivating a source’? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

Alex swung her hand and connected, hard, with her sister’s shoulder, only to wince in pain. “Ouch.”

***

She was stunning.

Alex had no other words to describe Maggie as she stood beside a gleaming town car, in a deep wine-red dress with a high neck and plunging back. Alex knew she was supposed to be annoyed, manipulated into this fake date, but one look at Maggie drove every thought from her head, the same way it drove the breath from her lungs.

“You clean up nice.”

“Yeah, well… You do too, you look…” Alex stumbled over the words, not sure why she was suddenly bashful and hating how off-balance Maggie made her. All afternoon, Kara’s comment and the weird churning in her stomach she struggled to name—nerves? anger? anticipation?—had distracted her from her work, so much so that Winn of all people had called her out.

Taking pity on her, Maggie took a step closer to Alex and caught both of Alex’s hands in hers, rising up as if she were going to press a kiss to Alex’s cheek. Freezing, Alex hoped the panic didn’t show in her eyes, but Instead of kissing her, Maggie whispered, “Driver is unknown. Fake date starts now.”

Still holding Alex’s hands, Maggie settled back on her heels, her gaze meaningful as she locked eyes with Alex. “Are you ready to go?” she asked.

Alex nodded, acknowledging the message and trying to figure out the mess of emotions suddenly rushing through her. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she lied, having thought they could use the drive out to the Marcus estate to discuss strategy. She relaxed the tension in her shoulders as Maggie lead her to the car. It’s just recon, she reminded herself, and an evening having to pretend to be attracted to Detective Maggie Sawyer. What could go wrong?

“So how was work?” Maggie asked with an impish smile as they settled into the soft leather seats. “Did you sell any insurance?”

“I should close that big corporate account next week,” Alex replied with a touch of pride infusing her voice, letting Maggie know two could play the undercover game. “I just need my boss to sign off on the quote.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“Not as exciting as your work, sure, but it has its moments. Providing safety and security for hundreds of families is important too... Detective.” The last was said with a teasing note, like they bantered like this all the time, and Maggie gave her an appreciative smile. “How was your day? Bust any bad guys?”

Maggie groaned as she leaned back and slid an arm around Alex’s shoulders, pulling their bodies closer together. “Mountains of paperwork, which made me late to lunch. I was starving by the time I ate.” Her fingers brushed over Alex’s bare shoulder with a familiarity that hopefully seemed genuine to an observer, and Alex sank a little into the embrace.

“I’m sure it was all worth it.”

“That depends.”

“On?”

Maggie’s eyes seemed darker than they had been a few minutes before, and Alex’s breath caught in her throat as Maggie’s gaze fixed on her. “Whether we catch the bad guys and lock them up. Otherwise, I would have gotten a cramp in my hand for nothing.”

“This one?” Alex asked and, before she could talk herself out of it, she caught the hand Maggie had resting in her lap. She ran her thumb across Maggie’s palm experimentally, hearing the detective inhale sharply and the arm over her shoulder tighten. Rubbing light circles across the heel, Alex smirked as she whispered, “Green light?” Maggie’s eyes danced as she caught onto what Alex was doing, but she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod to prompt Alex to continue.

Her hands were softer than Alex expected, not as marred by callouses and the occasional chemical burn, like her own, and Alex took her time, her fingers gently massaging Maggie’s. The nervous fluttering had morphed into something darker, warmer, deep in her gut when she saw Maggie’s tongue dart out to wet her lips.

A subtle tension built, visible in the way Maggie’s eyes widened and darkened and in the way her pulse pounded under Alex’s fingers. Alex knew she should stop, but she really didn’t want to. Maggie finally broke the spell, withdrawing her fingers, and Alex sucked in a deep breath to steady her own heart rate.

Maggie turned to search for something on the seat beside her. “I… I almost forgot,” she muttered as she handed Alex an elaborate white and burgundy mask that matched the color of Maggie’s dress perfectly. She held up another, this one black satin with an ornate whorled trim, silver accents, and a flower made of feathers along the temple. “I’ll do yours if you do mine,” she offered.

Scooting around on the seat, Maggie faced away from Alex, showing that broad expanse of skin that stretched from her shoulders to her waist. Alex settled the mask across Maggie’s temples, their fingers brushing as Maggie reached up to keep the mask from slipping while Alex fumbled for the satin ribbons to secure it. Finished, she smoothed Maggie’s hair down, her hands lingering for a moment in the silky strands.

“You okay back there, Danvers?”

“Yeah,” Alex muttered. “You’re, you’re all done.”

“Not yet, but if I play my cards right…”

Alex snatched her hands back like she’d been burned, a full-fledged panic breaking out as her mind leaped to not-safe-for-work images of the detective in her bed. Fake date. Remember. Fake. Date. They were supposed to flirt. It was their cover. Maggie was just playing along like she was supposed to. Like Alex was supposed to. Alex tried to get her pulse under control as the circumstances of the mission suddenly came roaring back.

Maggie’s throaty chuckle filled the car as she turned, her dark eyes mysterious as they peeked out of the mask. “Your turn,” she purred, and Alex reluctantly turned her back on the other woman, her eyes squeezing closed as Maggie swept her hair back. Alex held the mask in place, careful not to touch their fingers as Maggie tied it into place.

Slowly, she faced Maggie again, and Maggie gave her an uncharacteristically shy smile as she searched her eyes. “You look…” Maggie whispered as she fluffed the feather at Alex’s temple before trailing her finger down Alex’s cheek.

“Stupid?”

“Amazing.” Maggie’s hand had come to rest on Alex’s shoulder, and she tugged gently. The light pressure was easy enough to resist, if Alex wanted to, but she went with the motion instead. Laying her hand on Maggie’s knee, she leaned forward as Maggie tilted her chin up.

The car slowed abruptly as it pulled off the main road, and Alex started, her head coming up as she looked through the darkened windows. Gravel crunched under the tires for a moment before smoothing out on a long curved driveway that could hold half of the DEOs fleet of SUVs. Alex cast an apologetic glance at Maggie as they pulled to a stop, seeing some akin to disappointment on the other woman’s face. The door on Maggie’s side opened, and she gave Alex a reassuring smile before she stepped out, holding her hand for Alex.

Well, Alex thought as she placed her hand in Maggie’s, feeling a jolt run through her at the contact, here goes nothing. 


	4. Keeping Cover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to Boxer for the feedback and the beta. When I'm struggling with writing, it helps to have someone who understands how it feels and can give lots of good comments to keep my spirits up. Kisses sweetie.

Part 4: Keeping Cover

Maggie walked hand-in-hand with Alex across the threshold and into an honest-to-god ballroom, decked out with ornate gold-and-white mardi gras decorations set against black velvet curtains lining windows and wall alcoves. The ballroom was lit well enough to see across but soft enough to feel intimate, and candles sparkled in crystals and feathers set as table decorations throughout. Jazz played through speakers but a small creole band was setting up in the corner, and Maggie had to admit she was impressed; for a policeman’s charity event, the Marcus family seemed to have gone all out.

Maggie’s glance took in the masked people moving among the cafe tables before settling back on the woman at her side. Alex was beautiful in black, her sculpted legs and calloused hands belying the creamy skin and soft curls her usually-straight hair sported. The flickering candles only enhanced her beauty, glinting off the accents in her mask and making her dark eyes more mysterious. Maggie had expected Alex would be dressed to the nines, especially after her teasing earlier, but she hadn’t expected the sight to hit her like a sucker punch to the gut.

If there had been any doubt of her attraction to the prickly agent, seeing Alex in that dress obliterated it. Tightening her grip on Alex’s hand, Maggie grinned and got a brief, affectionate smile in return. Then Alex’s eyes slid past her to another partygoer, the look behind the mask cold and professional. Stifling a sigh, Maggie forced her attention back to the who’s who of National City high society as they slowly circled the room. They were here to do a job, after all.

Alex dropped Maggie’s hand to catch two champagne flutes from a passing server, handing one to Maggie, but the chilled glass was no substitute for the warmth of Alex’s hand. Get a grip, Sawyer, she chided herself.

“Wow, everyone’s here,” Alex gushed. “I think I saw the mayor.”

“There’s Veronica Sinclair.” Maggie nodded toward a woman in a slinky red dress with an elaborate snake tattoo. “And I think half the investment bankers and hedge fund managers in the city are here.” She could tell Alex was cataloging everyone in the room when a sudden frown crossed her features. Following her gaze, Maggie saw it was fixed on a man in dress blues standing by the buffet table.

“Senior aide to General Lane,” Alex said through a clenched-teeth smile.

But before Maggie could ask, a familiar voice called out from behind. “Sawyer.”

“Detective Thomas.” Maggie turned and squared up on her colleague in a cheap suit and party-store mask. She saw Alex’s eyes flicker between the two of them as Maggie made no attempt to introduce her, and Maggie’s shoulders tensed as he assessed Alex from head-to-toe, a sneer twisting his lips.

Alex’s smile didn’t reach her eyes as she extended her hand. “Hi, I’m….”

“New,” he finished, cutting her off. “I don’t learn your names. No need when they change so fast. All the girls leave pretty quickly once they find out how psycho Sawyer is.”

Stepping forward, Maggie wasn’t sure what she was going to do, but her hand curled into a fist. A light caress down her arm stopped her as Alex turned into her side, their bodies pressing together as she slid a possessive arm around Maggie’s waist.

“This must be the guy you warned me about, the limp-dick sorry excuse of a detective who’s always trying to start something with your dates.” Alex laughed, condescending and dismissive, and Maggie smirked at Thomas as the insult hit home. “Come on, Maggie, let’s get another drink.”

The subtle pressure on her stomach intensified as Alex drew her away. Anger evaporated as she turned in Alex’s embrace, soaking in the warmth while Alex smoothed Maggie’s hair and traced her spine with her fingers.

“Thanks,” Maggie muttered as Alex took the empty glass from her hand and set it on a passing waiter’s tray. They paused near the bar that stretched the length of the room, and Alex pointed to the bottle of Scotch and held up two fingers. A moment later, she handed Maggie a heavy crystal glass, and Maggie marveled a little at how smoothly the agent had handled her.

There was a dangerous glint in Alex’s eyes as she stared over Maggie’s shoulder at Thomas, who was still watching them from across the room. “It’s okay,” Maggie muttered. “He’s just an asshole.”

“There’s more to it than that,” Alex observed blandly. “You want to talk about it?”

Sighing, Maggie toyed with the glass in her hands, gazing into the amber liquid. “His last girlfriend decided she liked girls.”

“You?”

Maggie grimaced, wishing the agent wasn’t so observant. “I didn’t even know she was his ex for the first couple of weeks. She apparently saw me around the station and hunted me down at a bar.” Shrugging, she tried to blow it off with a laugh. “He’s not my biggest fan.”

“So what happened with her?”

Maggie sighed again, trying to ease a familiar ache in her chest. “She stuck around for a few weeks until she found someone better. He’s, uh, not wrong about women leaving.”

Alex’s nose scrunched up in seeming disbelief, and she saluted Maggie with her glass. “Their loss.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Her gaze went back to the ballroom as she shifted back into work mode, now a welcome distraction, and she was surprised to see how crowded it had gotten. “We should mingle.” She didn’t miss Alex’s frown, but Alex let the conversation drop as they moved through the crowd side-by-side.

They got several second looks as they walked by, which didn’t surprise Maggie at all, but the attention seemed to puzzle Alex. She slid closer to Maggie, brushing their arms, and Maggie shifted her drink so she could catch Alex’s hand again, lacing their fingers together loosely and earning a brilliant smile from the woman at her side.

An older man in full police regalia and an elaborate mask that looked vaguely like the Joker’s makeup greeted them as they circled by the buffet table. “Ladies.”

“Nice mask, boss,” Maggie chuckled.

“I have to have my fun somehow.” He turned to Alex. “I’m Chief Wiggins, and yes, really,” he said as Alex’s lips quirked into a surprised smile. “Go ahead and laugh. Everyone does.”

Alex managed to keep a straight face, mostly. “I’m Alex.”

“Nice to meet you.” His chin raised as he acknowledged someone over Alex’s shoulder. “Sorry, ladies, duty calls. I have to go scandalize the mayor now.”

“Have fun,” Maggie called, a fond smile on her face as she watched him make a beeline across the floor toward a small gaggle of people, all of whom were staring at the chief in horror. “He’s one of the good ones,” she told Alex as she guided her through the crowd toward a quiet corner. “Not everyone’s on-board with the Science Division and our stated objective to protect and serve everyone, human and alien alike, but he is.”

“He seems like quite the character.”

“Oh, he is. His sense of humor is legendary, and not,” she nodded toward the group of dignitaries from local government who were trying, with differing degrees of success, to hide their distaste, “to everyone’s taste.”

“Apparently.” Alex’s smile widened, and Maggie mirrored the expression as they stepped out of the flow of people. Facing her, Maggie was struck again by Alex’s quiet, commanding beauty. What had seemed like a great idea earlier was now the height of hubris, thinking she could spend the entire evening on a pretend date with a woman with whom she was starting to be utterly and completely enchanted.

“We really are among National City’s wealthiest,” Alex mused as she took in the room, and Maggie was glad she hadn’t noticed the open staring.

“Makes you wonder how I rate, huh?”

Snorting a little with laughter, Alex glanced back at Maggie, her dark eyes mischievous. “Well, if nothing else, you do make good arm candy.” Her grin under the mask was flirtatious, her tone teasing, and it sent a shiver down Maggie’s spine.

“Danvers, I hate to break it to you, but you are here as my plus one, so you are _my_ arm candy.” Her jaw jutted up so she could make eye contact with Alex.

Alex drifted a step closer. “Is that right?”

Maggie ignored the way her heart pounded as the distance between them shrank. “Yup. And given the number of jealous glares I’ve gotten from just about every man, and even a few women, in the room, I think I made a pretty good choice.”

There was just a whisper of space between them now, and Maggie waited. Alex’s dark eyes, darker now than even a few moments ago, searched her face, a small frown on indecision curving Alex’s lips. Just as Alex’s fingers ghosted over Maggie’s cheek, and Maggie’s hand came up to catch Alex’s elbow, a rustle of muttering went through the crowd. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to trigger their finely-honed instincts.

The mood broke as both woman stepped back, alert and on guard. Maggie swept the room, knowing Alex was doing the same, and her gaze fixed on the two women entering the ballroom. “The Luthors are here, Lillian and Lena.”

They were joined by Sinclair and a city councilman as they made their way through the ballroom, making a beeline for Lane’s aide. Other people were in motion, including the host and the mayor, and out of the corner of her eye, Maggie could see Alex’s knuckles were white where she was gripping her glass.

“Think we can get close enough to overhear?” Alex asked.

Several bulky guys in off-the-rack suits took up spots around the Luthors and their entourage, and Maggie shook her head. “Not unless you are into suicide missions, Danvers. And…” Maggie said as she started to turn before stopping with a muttered ‘damn’ under her breath.

“What?”

A dark-haired man was bearing down on them, his expensive suit matching his plain black mask. “Maxwell Lord. He’s…”

“Alex!” He caught the agent by the elbow and pulled her close, his fingers resting where Maggie’s had been minutes before, and Maggie’s hand tightened on the glass as he pressed a kiss against Alex’s cheek. “It’s been too long since our paths have crossed,” he said as he beamed at Alex with a half-grin Maggie assumed some women found charming.

Alex firmly extricated her arm from his grip and stepped out of his space, a polite-yet-forced smile on her face. “Max.”

He didn’t even notice Maggie; all of his attention was focused on Alex, his eyes skirting over her body approvingly. “Now this time I know you aren’t hiding a gun under your dress.” His smirk was practically daring Alex to react.

“I don’t need one this evening,” Alex answered smoothly, but the muscles in her jaw twitched under her mask. Alex looked like she was resisting the urge to punch him. It helped soothe the sudden spike of jealousy and protectiveness that had rushed through Maggie as soon as Lord had put his hands on Alex. She was here as a representative of her department after all, and decking one of the most powerful men in National City was probably not a good career move.

“How’s your sister?” His innocuous question managed to sound vaguely threatening, and the banked anger in Alex’s eyes kicked up a notch. “Is she as broken up by Cat’s little sabbatical as the rest of us are?”

Cat could only mean Cat Grant, and Maggie gave Alex a sideways glance. If Cat was away from her empire, then Maggie’s threat to expose the DEO to her had been hollow, and if Alex’s sister was her friend, Alex had known the whole time.

“She misses Cat, of course.” Alex took a sip of her drink but she never took her eyes off Lord, like she didn’t trust him even a little bit. “They became friends–”

“Yes, they were rather chummy the last time I saw them–”

“But Kara is working as a reporter now.”

“Ah, yes, she wrote that puff piece on Lena Luthor.” He gestured across the ballroom, sloshing the drink in his hand. “So like her to find the good in everyone.”

“Everyone who deserves it,” Alex agreed with a tight smile.

“Now why do I get the sense that you wouldn’t put me into that category?” Max said with a self-deprecating laugh before stepping close again, his fingers sliding up Alex’s arm to curl around her bicep. “And here I thought our cold war was warming up.”

Alex glared at his hand coldly until he withdrew it with a sly smile. “You thought wrong, Max.”

Maggie watched the back-and-forth with fascination; there was an undercurrent she couldn’t quite read, both of them dancing around something, or several somethings. Alex’s disdain for him was clear, but that seemed to provoke rather than deter him, and Alex didn’t shut him down, not completely. In fact, he looked rather pleased with the icy tone in her voice.

“You don’t exactly run in this social circle.” He indicated the roomful of dignitaries, the teasing note leaving his voice as his mouth tightened into a hard line. “So what are you doing here, Alex? I’m assuming you are here for work.”

Alex chuckled and shook her head. “No, Max, going out for dinner with you was work.” She moved closer to Maggie, her hand gliding up Maggie’s back in a gentle caress as she presented her. “This…” she purred as she gave Maggie a sultry look that caused Maggie’s stomach to flip in the best possible way, “is pure pleasure. Max, I’d like you to meet my date, Maggie.”

Maggie drew a deep breath as tingles ran down her spine in response to Alex’s touch before reaching out to shake his hand. “Detective Maggie Sawyer, NCPD.”

He froze for an instant, recognition sparking in his eyes, before taking her hand in both of his and shaking warmly.

But his hesitation had been noticed. “You’ve met?” Alex asked with an arched eyebrow.

“No,” Maggie said with a shake of her head and a sharp gaze. “I would remember if I had ever met the _illustrious_ Maxwell Lord.”

Max shook his head as well. “First acquaintance, actually. But Detective Sawyer is one of the special guests of the evening, if I’m not mistaken. One of the brave members of the Science Division, tasked with protecting National City from the alien menace.” He stressed the last words and cast his eyes to the side as if he expected Alex to react.

“We protect everyone, including our alien neighbors,” Maggie replied pointedly as Alex stiffen. Sliding an arm around Alex’s waist, Maggie tugged her closer and rested her hand on Alex’s hip, pleased to see Max’s gaze dart down, jealousy clear on his face.

“I didn’t know you were dating, ah, anyone,” he said to Alex with a significant glance to Maggie.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Max.” Alex was back to toying with Maggie’s hair, leaning in to rest her head against Maggie’s, and Maggie caught a whiff of her perfume, the light wood and citrus leaving her a little dizzy as Alex leaned into her. “And speaking of dates, we should get back to ours. Goodnight, Max.”

As they walked off arm-in-arm, Maggie felt Max’s glare burn into her back. “So you and Maxwell Lord?” she asked, unable to contain her curiosity even for a second.

Alex shrugged. “It was work.”

Snuggling a little deeper into the embrace, a little whisper of something that felt like insecurity welled up. “Like this?” Maggie asked, not sure she really wanted to know. The parallels were starting to hit too close to home.

Stepping out of the flow of people, they made their way to a quiet alcove off of the main room. A quick, professional assessment of their surroundings made sure they were alone, but they still stood close, maybe even closer than necessary. “No, not like this. I had to distract him for a few hours to get some intel so I let him wine and dine me. That was deception; this... is a partnership.” Alex waved a flustered hand between them. “Like a professional partnership. You know. For the case.”

“Yeah, I know.” Maggie hoped she didn’t sound as disappointed as she felt. “And speaking of, the Luthors and their party seem to have disappeared.”

“And Max is still watching us.” Alex frowned. “I don’t like how he reacted to your name.”

Maggie glanced back over her shoulder. “You don’t think he just saw it on a list of attendees?”

“No, I don’t.”

“He still looks pretty suspicious.”

“Shall we alleviate his suspicions, then?” Alex’s mood lightened as a grin, teasing and mischievous, curved her lips, but a dark light in her eyes hinted at something… else, and Maggie’s breath caught in her chest.  

“How?”

Alex didn’t answer; she took Maggie’s hand and lead her back into the swirl of bodies circulating around the room. Maggie hadn’t noticed, but, at some point, the band had started and a few couples were already dancing in the small space carved out by the stage. The singer crooned out a patois of French and English as the band played a stately, jazzy dance tune.

Alex raised their joined hands and slid an arm around Maggie’s waist, pulling her close and giving Maggie just enough time to rest her hand on Alex’s shoulder before stepping into the music. Alex’s eyebrow quirked, checking to see if Maggie was okay as the tempo of the music picked up and they twirled around the dance floor. Maggie was sure the smile on her face was wide and silly as she let Alex lead, surprised by the easy way Alex merged their swaying bodies with the beat.

“Seriously, Danvers?” Maggie laughed, loving the smile on Alex’s face that managed to be both shy and seductive at the same time and the way the lights sparkled in her eyes as they spun among the dancing couples. “Did you go to some kind of a finishing school for secret agents? Like Nikita?” The teasing brought a lovely shade of pink to Alex’s cheeks as she glanced down at their feet, self-consciously chewing on her lower lip.

“No,” she scoffed. “I just like to dance. My dad taught me when I was a kid.”

“He teach you to lead too?”

If anything, Alex’s blush deepened, but she met Maggie’s eyes with a challenge. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Detective Sawyer.” Maggie quirked an eyebrow and tilted her head to hold Alex’s gaze until the taller woman relented, the half-shrug of her shoulder moving the muscles beneath Maggie’s fingers. “I had to teach my sister to dance when we were in high school.”

She spun Maggie out and back into her arms, forestalling any conversation, and Maggie surrendered to the moment, letting go of the many questions that crowded into her head to enjoy the music and the woman in her arms.

Alex took quick stuttering steps backwards, and Maggie laughed in delight as she stumbled after, running into Alex’s lithe body near the edge of the dance floor. “I think I need some of those dance lessons,” she gasped as Alex steadied her.

“Anytime,” Alex purred, and it almost sounded like a promise. The music slowed into a waltz, and Alex’s hand splayed across Maggie’s back and pressed Maggie closer, and Maggie risked a glance at Alex. It only took a second for Maggie to realize her mistake, seeing her own desire mirrored in Alex’s dark eyes, and damn, if this was just an act for their undercover assignment, Alex was a pro.

The world shrank to just their bodies swaying to the music, and there was nothing but Alex, her body, her heat, just… her, and Maggie felt like she was trapped in some romantic cliché. This is not happening, she reminded herself. Taking a shaky breath, she scanned the room over Alex’s shoulder, finding Lord still scowling at them.

“Your friend Maxwell Lord still seems skeptical,” she muttered.

A gentle caress under her chin brought her attention back to Alex. Any hesitation was gone as Alex’s gaze fixed on Maggie’s mouth, allowing Maggie a single breath before their lips touched.

Maggie had never swooned before, but her knees buckled as Alex subtly increased the soft pressure and slid her hand into Maggie’s hair to hold her there. Clinging to Alex’s arms, Maggie let go and melted into it. Their steps faltered and stopped as they got lost in that searching, sweet kiss.

It ended, way too soon, and Maggie breathed a whispered ‘wow’ into the stillness. Alex was frozen in the moment, her lips still seeking, her eyes still closed, and the connection, the yearning, that Maggie felt was overpowering. The emotions that washed over Maggie were more than lust, more than attraction…

Panic, pure, unadulterated panic had Maggie’s heart pounding in equal parts fear and exhilaration. This was too much, too soon, even if there was something real building between them and it wasn’t just fake date pretending taken too far to protect their cover.

“I…” Maggie muttered quietly as Alex’s eyes fluttered open, “I think we convinced him.” Seeing Alex’s confusion, Maggie clarified. “Maxwell Lord. I think we convinced him.”

“Oh. Yeah. I mean, that’s good. That’s…” Alex raised her head and looked around. “I guess we should get back to wor… um, the party, then.” She seemed as stunned as Maggie was, and Maggie wasn’t sure if she should be thrilled or terrified by that.

“I… ah, I’ll be right back,” Maggie stammered as Alex released her hand. “I need to use the powder room. Okay?” Alex’s gaze was fixed on the ground, but she nodded her head. “I’ll be right back.” Maggie walked away, afraid to look back and see the hangdog expression on Alex’s face, afraid she would return to those arms and kiss Alex in a way she wouldn’t be able to explain away.

Walking down the hall, Maggie passed a caterer’s table, and she contemplated snagging a bottle of the top-shelf Scotch. Passing out in a drunken stupor might not be the best idea she’d ever had, but then, her whole night had started to look like a whole string of very bad ideas. Avoiding the temptation, she burst into the bathroom, narrowly avoiding a gaggle of giggling high-society types who had obviously been hitting the bar too hard. A moment later, Maggie had the room to herself, and she slumped over the sink. After a few long, deep breaths, she raised her head and stared into her traitorous eyes.

This was not the time nor the place to let, what? romantic? complications interfere, if that was even what was happening. The car ride, the hand massage, the not-so-innocent brush of her fingers against the skin of Maggie’s bare back, the kiss… what if that all had been an act? But Alex had looked disappointed, even hurt, when Maggie had suggested the kiss had been for show.

Straightening suddenly as another group of women came in, Maggie squared her shoulders,  smoothed her dress down over her hips, and sucked in one last deep breath, letting it out slowly. Not here, not now, she reminded herself sharply, but tomorrow... tomorrow, she would invite Alex out for a decent cup of coffee and see where that lead them.

Happy with her plan, Maggie walked out with her head held high, barely getting three steps before an arm wrapped around her neck roughly, yanking her backward. She jabbed a hard elbow into her assailant's solar plexus and stabbed her heel into their foot, feeling bones shatter along with her shoe. An elbow over her shoulder smashed into their face, and the arm holding her loosened. Her ankle twisted as she wrenched herself free but before she could get anywhere, more hands caught her, and she felt the prick of a needle on her neck. Her last thoughts were of Alex waiting in the ballroom as her vision blurred and darkness swept in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the question is, how conscious is Alex of her actions in this chapter? And who took Maggie?


End file.
